


How awkward can it get?

by justmariamay



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Awkwardness, Crushes, First Kiss, Humor, M/M, Martial Arts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-18
Updated: 2015-08-18
Packaged: 2018-04-15 10:28:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4603353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justmariamay/pseuds/justmariamay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gadreel has a crush, Raphael and alcohol don't mix, Michael is done with everyone and Bartholomew and Malachi are surprisingly supportive friends/idiots.</p>
            </blockquote>





	How awkward can it get?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Omano](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Omano/gifts).



> I had parts of it on my computer for quite a while, but only today pulled it together.

Gadreel really should stop doing this. But he just can’t help watching or rather staring at Michael brutally beating poor punching bag in the corner of the gym. ‘Brutally’ is not the word though, because every punch and kick is precise, calculated and graceful. Michael never loses his balance as he changes the posture or strike a particularly high kick. There is a certain rhythm to the sound he beats out of the punchbag with each impact. Damn, this guy is a machine: he’s been torturing this bag for ten minutes without a break, working every move and every combination. Gadreel really wants to spar with Michael and even knowing the other won’t refuse he doesn’t. First of all, he’s no match for Michael freakin’ Grace, second, he doesn’t want to push his luck anyway. He’s just beaten shit out of Thaddeus (who is still full of shit no matter what), which is enough victory for today. Ok. Gadreel, better look the other way. For example there are Barth and Malachi sparring, try and guess which will win this time. Better that than stare at this perfect in every way human being namely Michael.

Ugh… easier said than done, apparently. Oh, common! Michael is already taken and his significant other is equally perfect. So Gadreel has to stop to admire the guy, his tense muscles, his pale skin, those pitch black thick and a bit too long dump hair, and he has to stop thinking about Michael’s impossibly bright eyes or his magical voice, or the constant barely-there smile on those lips…

That’s it, time for another sparring. He looks around searching a suitable partner and spots Dean Winchester, who is arguing with their trainer, yet again. Zach seems really pissed off; Gadreel might as well save Dean from additional pushups.

“Winchester! Wanna spar?” he yells to him.

“Yes, he wants!” answers Zach in his stead and shoves Dean towards Gadreel. Then he picks up makiwaras and calls Abner: “Sarver, get over here!”

Gadreel puts on black helmet and mitts, Dean puts on the red ones and they get into position. They are equally tall and built, so it is a fair fight. Dean is good, quick and has good reflexes, but he lacks in structure and is more or less predictable, but on the other hand Gadreel has problems with his defense. After two minutes and half they call it a draw: Gadreel has missed two punches, Dean – only one, but strong knee strike.

Most of the group leaves because it’s 9 p.m. already. Others stay to stretch, soon girls from dance class come to ‘help’ them. Raphael, Anna, Jo and Meg. The redhead Anna is Zach’s daughter and probably not the most significant reason Zach’s wants to make Dean’s life a living hell, no really, Dean just has that effect on people, everybody wants to kill him at some point. The blonds Jo and Meg are first year students, but Gadreel doesn’t remember what they study, dismal science or something… And Raphael, their leader, she is the luckiest girl in Gadreel’s eyes. She always carries herself with grace and dignity, very smart and talented, ambitious and strong-willed and inter alia she’s super-hot, those legs long in tight leggings drive guys (and some girls too) crazy. All in all she and Michael make a beautiful couple. Sometimes he doesn’t know of whom he jealous more.

“Anna, go to those morons,” Zach points at Barth and Malachi who continue to shove and poke each other non-stop, “Raphael, would you mind to help Mr. Winchester here? Anna is too soft with him,” – yikes! Gadreel can bet nobody wants to be Dean now, maybe except for Michael, but he already has all three splits perfected. Stretching by Raphael is legendary, cruel, but efficient.

And there she goes: she seats Dean down on the floor, sits on his shoulders, spreads his legs with her feet, takes his hands in hers, puts them on the floor and stretches them as far as they go. No wonder Michael is this flexible, if she does that to him every day…

Speaking of devil, Michael chooses this exact moment to get rid of his wet shirt. Well at least Gadreel tries not to stare, while Jo and Meg do it shamelessly. Not that he can blame them, after all why else should they come here for? Certainly not to torment them with stretching. Ah, yes, Dean’s cry for mercy reminds him of that. Honestly, only Raphael can make that ‘alpha-male’ whine like a little girl.

“Endure! Breathe out if it hurts. 30 seconds more,” 30 seconds? She’s probably in a bad mood. “I warn you, Winchester, if you try to get up now, you’ll strain your back!”

Dean’s only answer is a miserable groan.

“What a crybaby! I count to ten and let you go, ok?” she stretches his hands even further, “8, 9, 10.”

She finally lets him go and stands up, grimacing from all that sweat.

“Now, carefully… I said carefully! Straighten. Take your time, Winchester,” she pats his shoulder and (oh shit!) walks to Gadreel. But thankfully all she does is correct his position.

When Dean stands up a minute later he exclaims:

“Damn, girl, you’re kinky! Do you go this S&M on Mike too?” almost everyone try to contain laughter at this comment.

The sneer is evident in Raphael’s voice as she answers:

“No, Dean, all the good stuff I keep stashed. Just. For. You.” Dean is mortified and this time everybody laughs. Michael too. God, he loves that laugh, sonant and good-natured. 

“Ew! Sweaty smelly men… just what we need Friday night, what do you think girls?” asks Jo from the bar wall.

“Oh, please, Joanna! Don’t pretend you don’t enjoy the view!” said Anna.

“I enjoy the view alright,” smirks Meg from behind Gadreel and he has a bad feeling, “Who needs strip clubs when we have this for free,” yep, she actually grabs his butt, he hates when she does that and hates that he blushes every time she does that.

“That’s it, kids, go home,” interrupts them Zach and starts gathering the equipment, while girls a bit disappointed go upstairs to change.

Gadreel doesn’t miss how Raphael tugs at Michael hair as she passes near and lets out a sigh that could pass for exhaustion instead of longing. He knows it’s hopeless, but there is no harm in dreaming.

In locker room Dean can’t stop complaining.

“No, Mike, seriously! Zach wants to kill me; he even set your wild black panther on me! Is it because I’m dating Anna? Or because he thinks I’m bad influence on Cas?”

“No, I believe, that’s because you’re an idiot,” simply replies Michael. “But don’t worry, he won’t really kill you as long as you keep Anna happy.”

“I guess I better not screw this up,” he probably missed the part about him being an idiot. Again, after this good workout the atmosphere was much friendlier. Even Bartholomew and Malachi stop sending each other murdering glances.

“But Zach is too severe, don’t you think?” says Abner.

“Yep, he’s a demon,” agrees Barth.

Michael laughs:

“He’s not that bad. If he’s like that, it means he sees the potential.”

“If you say so, champion,” doubtfully says Malachi, reminding that Michael does have a number of won competitions.

“Believe me, I know him since I was sixteen, deep inside he’s an angel.”

“I suspect that ‘deep inside’ is deeper than Mariana Trench,” moans Dean.

Well, that’s how their trainings usually go. Blessing and torture in one package.

* * *

 

Michael has math statistics to concentrate on.

Mathematics was a weird choice to make, but he understands the language of numbers, graphs and formulas better than he understands people. His social skills can be described as simple function y=k/x, where x is time people spend with him, meaning his social skills tend to zero. Human heart? Is there such a thing? Like Raphael likes to say: all the emotions are result of chemical processes, a mechanism of Nature. In the end they are all are slaves of their bodies. But math liberates mind, makes the world around a bit more out of ordinary. Non-Euclidean Geometry transcends the trivial laws. Like what if there are worlds where the shortest distance between two points is not a straight but a spiral... Heh, no wonder people don’t like him much, when they get a glimpse of what is happening in his head. Raphael says he is too honest and honesty combined with his intelligence and appearance is often taken as arrogance. That is pretty much why he and Dean rarely communicate civilly, even though they have a lot in common.

MMA was too a weird choice for him too, but also one he never regrets. He doesn’t really likes to fight, but he’s good at it. He became good at it, because in the beginning he sucked, just ask Zachariah. At least he hasn’t sent anyone to hospital yet.  
He even trains extra, like now he’s going downstairs to the gym an hour before the start. He is surprised to find Gadreel there. He is punching the bag and seems to be out of humor. That happens, but should it ruin all the technique? Zachariah would’ve already killed him.

“Um, Gadreel?” he asks softly and the taller man freezes still. When he turns he seems embarrassed.

“Hey, Mike, I… I wasn’t…”

“Bad day?” he guesses.

“Yeah,” he confirms, but then he smiles, “Believe or not, it just got better.”

“Yeah, the place has this effect,” he agrees. The gym could always calm him down, give something else to concentrate on. “Anyway, I didn’t want to interfere, but Zach will murder you in cold blood, if he sees this nightmare instead of what he’s been teaching you. Just warning.”

“Jeez, is it that bad?” he asks still embarrassed.

“It is,” Michael replies honestly. “What’s the matter? It’s… it’s just not you,” Gadreel has problems but he is pretty good.

“I…” then he stops and looks at his hands. Michael silently takes off his mitts and… as he thought.

“See? It means you are doing it wrong,” he points at skinned knuckle with his thumb. “Oh, sorry,” he quickly lets go of Gadreel’s hand and gives back his mitts, because Gadreel gives him that look, which Michael usually receive when people want to kill him. Great. He offended him. “Anyway, you better get yourself together, before Zach comes, or else we’re all screwed,” he patters and starts doing lapses to warm up.

* * *

 

Gadreel feels stupid. Michael’s been avoiding him since Tuesday. At least Gadreel thinks so. He wasn’t present yesterday, but Zach didn’t say anything, usually he comments the absence in not very nice way. Was it something he did? He couldn’t tell for sure, he was dumbfounded when Michael held his hand in his. But damn if he’s gonna leave it like this.

He catches Michael on the stairs after the lecture on functional analysis.

“Hey, Mike!”

Michael turns around and faces him. Those eyes leave him speechless again. No, no, talk.

“You missed yesterday training. I just don’t remember if you ever skipped. I was worried,” he should have let out the last part. But Michael smiles a bit wider.

“Nothing to worry about, just had some things to do.”

“I… ” Come on Gadreel, don’t waste his time. “I didn’t even thank you.”

“For what?” Michael tilts his head.

“Um… I guess you saved me from Zach’s wrath, when you pointed out my… mistakes.”

“Ah, that. I was afraid I offended you somehow. I’m not known for a sense of tact,” oh. Oh. Now Gadreel feels even stupider. “Is there anything else?”

“Actually, yes. I wanted to know what you… what you think about me. I will appreciate you straightforwardness,” Michael looks puzzled.

“Mhm… fine, if you really want to know.”

They go up to a windowsill. Michael puts his bag on it and begins.

“You are good fighter, I mean, not as good as you can be, but you have the potential,” that’s how Michael took his question. But ok, as long as he hears his voice… no, not that. It’s gonna be useful, because Michael is professional. “You are easily distracted. You often forget to keep your hands at your face, hence your defense suffers. Also you should pay attention how you turn your body. And you are little too tense when you strike. I… I mean you hit like this,” he closes his right hand in a fist and imitates the motion. ”When it’s gotta be like this…” his hand is relaxed, when it moves forward until he barely touches the center of Gadreel’s chest and only then closes into fist. He has warm hands. “See? That way you don’t waste energy, the strike is quicker and stronger. ”

“I see, thanks for…” but Michael doesn’t let him finish.

“You are going to get it right. You are kind of person that tries until fixes the mistakes. You never give up, I admire that trait of yours,” Michael smiles and has no idea what he’s doing to him. “But you really were out of it this Tuesday. Oh, sorry, not my business,” he quickly apologizes and hurries to next class. Damn it.

* * *

"I didn't say this out loud, did I?.."

She did. And now Michael has very expressive facepalm. Okay, Raphael and alcohol don't mix. Or mix badly. During Lucifer's birthday party Raphael has announced that she and Michael are not together as everyone thought, and done it in very awkward way. Awkward for Michael of course, who excuses them and leaves before it gets even more awkward. Well... basically Raphael has just said that she has a boyfriend who isn't Michael and Michael, umm... never had anyone. Yeah, she said a V-word.

But all in all Gadreel could swear God exists. Only problem is that now he has competition represented by girls and boys of all sorts, as he could get from all those cheers and whistle and comments from people around.

“Having second thoughts, Gadreel?”

Barth and Malachi… where did they come from? Who cares. They crouch beside and scrutinize him.

“What?”

“Oh, nothing. We just thought you’d be dead from happiness instead of sulking here,” shrugs Malachi.

“Why would I be happy?” he doesn’t like ‘I know it all’ look on Bartholomew’s face.

“Oh, please! We know that you fancy our champion.” Great. Turns out he hasn’t been subtle if these two morons know.

As if reading his thoughts Malachi hastens to add:

“As far as I know, only we’ve noticed. And… well, Zach too.”

Isn’t it getting better and better? Zach of all people. Gadreel is a dead man walking, because no way Zach approves his infatuation with his star pupil. Another reason to just forget Michael and move on.

“Why so depressed? I kinda got a feeling that the old man is rooting for you, because he knows that you are great guy and all… So he won’t mind as long as you keep it professional during the trainings.”

“Just so you know, I’m rooting for you too, but if you don’t have guts to tell him, I’m gonna hit on Michael myself,” warns Barth, not really joking. But that makes Gadreel laugh and two others join him.

“So?” asks Malachi.

“Yeah, okay, I’ll tell him. Just… not today,” he doesn’t even know where Michael is. But that’s just excuse, because he has his number.

“I’d agree. It would be too clichéd. Anyway, me and Mr. Stuck-Up Prick were going to the gym, wanna join?” offers Malachi, receiving an elbow in his stomach from Barth.

“How do we get there?”

“We asked Zach real nice this afternoon and he gave us the key, said that we can go and kill each other for all he cares,” yeah, Gadreel imagines how that went: they leeched at their trainer until he gave up and surrendered the key.

“Yeah, let’s go,” that’s much better way to finish the day than sit here and think about all ifs and buts.

* * *

Michael knows exactly what’s going on and doesn’t like a single thing about it. Raphael has sworn that she’ll never take rum again. He at his own risk decided to believe her. But what's done is done. _Everybody knows._

Worst part of it is that Nick and Gabe wouldn’t leave him alone. He really doesn’t need the lectures about the importance of having sex on regular basis, especially not from his younger half-brothers, who right now are making a bet, if the girl whom he’s helping with a task is going to get him laid. He recognizes the flirting, which is not too aggressive and Hester is really nice too, but he politely dismisses her attempts. Now he’s fully aware that earlier he wouldn’t even notice the glances he receives. That is not the attention he’s used to, and honestly it freaks him out a little. And probably the whole university from students to professors and library workers knows that he is… yeah, the v-word, like Azazel has put it as if it was a swearing. One day Lily caught him in canteen and gave him a list of detailed recommendations, which included her. He really didn’t need to know all talents of his brother’s girlfriend. Those, who don’t try to ‘fix’ it one way or another, tease him relentlessly. Just the other day the librarian Marv gave him something like ‘How to get laid for dummies’ instead of a book on number theory. Ha. Ha. Ha.

And Raphael… she tries to protect him, kind of, but keeps saying that he should find someone, because it’s not fair that she has a boyfriend (even if he’s an asshole) and he is ‘lonely’. Also she says that first time is nothing special like it showed in books and movies, it’s all nerves and epic fail. But that’s not really what stops him from taking first willing person to bed.

Michael doesn’t really mind loneliness. He’s one of those people who can enjoy it instead of suffering from it. He realizes that it really is weird and many think it’s just sad, but he missed quite a lot and while catching up on things like new family, new school, the matter of sex never really crossed his mind save for his short crush on Rachel in high school.

Okay, fine. He’s a loser. But loser who can kick pretty much anyone’s ass here. And that’s a loser’s consolation. Damn it.

When Nick corners him again during the break he’s ready to kill him. Hopefully it won’t be a sin, because Nick is the devil incarnate. And if it is, five times Pater Noster and ten times Ave Maria will redeem him. At least in his own eyes.

“Does frustration get better of you yet, Mike?” he sneers viciously.

“No. And it shouldn’t bother you,” he says firmly.

“But it does! It affects my reputation!” exclaims Nick.

“How does my personal life affect your reputation?”

“No brother of mine can be that innocent!”

“I’m hardly innocent, I’m beating people for fun, as you keep saying,” keep cool, Michael, keep cool.

Nick is not pleased with answer. And starts what he’s doing best – provoking Michael.

“Hey, Mike! There you are! Professor Finch was asking for you, something about your course work,” Gadreel has just probably saved Michael from humiliation or saved Nick from horrible agonizing death.

“Sure! Thanks for telling me. See you later, Nick,” the later the better, he thinks as he passes by his evil brother and falls into pace with Gadreel. Nick won’t give up, but at least he and his sanity are safe for now.

“You don’t smile anymore,” notes Gadreel as they go upstairs.

“Not so much fun being me these days,” he sighs and immediately beats himself mentally. Gadreel doesn’t need to listen to his complains.

“I noticed as much, but you actually have a patience of a saint, huh, Michael?”

“I really don’t. Anyway I’m sure in a week everyone will forget it, and everything will return to square one,” Michael says hopefully, though he realizes that it’s probably too much to hope for. 

“I hope so,” agrees Gadreel and then adds quietly “if it means you’ll start smiling again.”

Michael appreciates his concern, but it’s nothing. All this is no more than a big nothing. So he just says:

“Don’t worry about me,” and tries to smile but can’t.

* * *

 

Gadreel doesn’t know what to do. All he knows that Michael is sad and tired, and that he doesn’t like it. All he wants is to snatch Michael and hide him away from his stupid brothers and all people who won’t leave him alone. But that will make him no better than them. At least guys at training don’t mention all those things, only Dean has the nerve for indecent hints in locker room, which Michael tries his best to ignore. But Gadreel wants to strangle Winchester every time he upsets Michael. Barth and Malachi keep sending Gadreel questioning glances, but don’t ask. Maybe they are not that stupid like they pretend to be.

Zach obviously is not happy with Mike’s general mood. Michael is still great in everything he does but as Zach has put it ‘lacks the usual spark’. And he also gives Gadreel blaming looks, as if it’s his fault. But it isn’t. If only he had a chance to make it better.  
‘Don’t worry about me,’ Michael told him. And he tried. He knows that Michael can stand up for himself. Really, if only he found courage before it came to this.

He’s such a loser. He sees Michael every day even more often than before, as Raphael spends more time with Azazel. And often there were those insufferable duo of Malachi and Barth, who would nudge him now and then to finally make a move. Really, it’s scary that these two have united for his cause. And Barth does flirt with Michael. But Michael being Michael doesn’t notice. Phew.

And two and half weeks after goddamn day something happens.

Everyone cleared from the gym save for four of them. Barth asked Zach to show them takedowns, but old man said that Michael could do it and left, asking Mike to lock the door and turn off the light when they finish. Everything goes fine until he hears Barth’s and Malachi’s hushed voices.

“Are you sure?”

“Get over with it, or you’ll be the one to suffer.”

“Fine, just don’t whine after…” mutters Malachi and bumps his head into Barth’s pretty face.

“Ouch!” cries the blond, “Are you fucking crazy?!” Wow, that’s a lot of blood coming from his nose. And Gadreel doesn’t know what the hell is going on.

“You asked for this, you dumbass!”

“Guys!” he hears Mike’s frantic voice. “Oh my God, Barth, are you alright?” He takes his chin and pulls it up, “Don’t lower your head…”

“Jesus, Mike, don’t worry, it’s not a big deal,” tries Barth, but it’s quite obvious, that it hurts a lot.

“Oh, come on!” says Malachi, “I’ve got a med kit in my car. Let’s go, you ass. And really, don’t worry ‘bout him, Mike, he isn’t worth it.”

“Hey! Don’t hurt my feelings too!”

Morons…

“I can’t believe those two…” sighs Michael tiredly when they are gone. And Gadreel has nothing to say about it but:

“Yeah, me too…”

They are silent as they prepare to leave. Michael seems to be in even worse mood than before, because he probably thinks it is his fault that Malachi and Barth are complete idiots.

When they are at the door, a problem appears. Michael pulls the knob again and again, them reaches to the wall where key should be.

“Locked,” states Michael, “And I can’t find the key.”

Oh no, they didn’t…

Michael tentatively knocks, hoping somebody will open. No such luck.

Gadreel takes his phone out of pocket and dials Barth. It’s Malachi who picks up.

“You called the douchbag number one in the world! Please leave your message after the long beep!”

“Very funny, did you lock us here?”

“Don’t know what you are talking about,” Malachi says flatly.

“Oh, drop it! And open the goddamn door!”

“Not so fast, Romeo, not so fast. You are staying there for a while, until you find your balls. I know it takes some to confess your undying love, but don’t be too long,” he has to be kidding.

“Are you fucking crazy?!”

“No, we are just good supportive friends. I mean me and Mr. Dickface are not friends, but I am your friend and so is he, so…” ugh. Just… ugh. Does he even realize how pathetic that sounds? Those guys are so in denial.

There is a noise on the other side and then Barth takes a hold on his phone.

“I don’t care what you do, just do it! You are stuck there for an hour at the least, so champion is all yours. You can even fuck him on the mats or something.”

Gadreel feels his face heating up.

“You won’t dare…”

“Already did!” suddenly the lights are off and he and Michael are left standing in the dark.

The last thing he hears before Barth hangs up is Milachi’s cheerful “Go get ‘em, tiger!”

He hopes Michael hasn’t heard it. Apparently he hasn’t, but Gadreel physically feels his confusion and tries to explain.

“I think, we’ve been pranked. But I don’t believe they would leave us here for the whole night. You are not afraid of darkness, are you?”

“No. No, I’m not.”

Gadreel feels Michael brush past him and awkwardly follows. They drop their bags and coats on the floor. But Michael doesn’t sit on the bench, he goes further and Gadreel hears him lie down on the mats. Yeah, those mats Barth was talking about. Christ, Gadreel swears he’ll kill him at the first opportunity. Still he goes after Michael and plops beside him.

Suddenly Michael laughs, quietly, but in the deserted gym it almost makes Gadreel jump.

“This is so stupid,” he says.

“No, Malachi and Barth are stupid,” grumbles Gadreel.

“Are they really?” Michael replies doubtfully and adds softly, “I know I am.”

Huh? What’s that about all of sudden?

“Oh, really? And here I thought you are future Nobelist.”

“Mathematicians can’t win Nobel prize, because one of them stole his woman,” oh, yeah, he heard something like that.

“I forgot,” admits Gadreel, “But I bet you’ll get Abel prize one day.”

“I have an impression that you think too highly of me. I’m afraid I’ll disappoint you.”

“You don’t have to be afraid of disappointing me,” it never happened, it never will. And yes, maybe he sees Michael better than he is, maybe he is blinded, but he’s totally cool with it.

Michael hums sleepily.

“You are not going to sleep, are you?” Gadreel asks in disbelief.

“Why not? There are worse places to sleep.”

Oh, no, he won’t. Like hell Gadreel’s gonna let him. So he turns around and throws right leg over Michael’s side and takes his arm into hook. Michael just laughs and within a second Gadreel is the one lying on his back. Now that his eyes are adjusted to darkness, he sees the glint in Michael’s eyes, the spark, sees little smile tug at the corner of his mouth. Michael doesn’t put the force into hold, so he could easily lean up and kiss him. It would be so easy. But it wouldn’t do.  
They continue to wrestle half-heartedly until Michael finally lets him go and flops next to him. Though they were not even a little serious, it takes a minute to catch their breaths.

“Now that was some weakling sandbox fight,” he makes the best impression of Zach he’s capable of.

And they laugh. And he really doesn’t need anything else. Or so he keeps telling himself.

Maybe he should take the chance. Hell, Barth paid with blood to give him this chance. After all, if nothing comes out of it, he won’t lose anything.

“You know, I was really surprised that you and Raphael… you know…” Oh, get yourself together.

“Only friends? Yeah, I got the impression everyone was surprised.”

“Part of me was kinda disappointed, you seemed like beautiful couple,” it’ not even a lie.

“She’s my family. It would be like dating my own sister,” Michael replies quietly.

“Awkward, huh?”

Michael hums in agreement.

“I wish it went differently, though. Raphael really shouldn’t drink, if you know what I’m talking about,” everybody knows, he’s afraid.

“There is nothing to be ashamed of, you know,” he turns on his side to look at Michael. Damn, he’s too close.

Michael shakes his head and chuckles.

“It seems like you’re only one who thinks that. My dear brothers, for example, think it’s some kind of disease. And the professors… or Marv from the library…”

“He thinks he’s funny,” Gadreel knows all about Marv’s sense of humor.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to complain,” Michael apologizes. Again. Gadreel wishes he would stop doing that.

“It’s fine. Actually when we first met I thought you were an android or something, but you are just a human with normal human problems. Don’t be offended, I mean you are really hard working and reserved. Also I caught few of your strikes and you hit like Terminator.” Gadreel was not impressed from the first sight, then fascinated, then captivated and recently fell in love hopelessly.

“Thanks I guess. I’m not offended. Know what Zach told me after our first more or less serious talk?”

“Can’t even imagine… How creative he got?” Zach is a pretty funny guy when he isn’t scary as hell.

“He told me to hijack a space rocket from Russians and go home to Alpha Centauri or wherever I came from,” he made the air quotes.

Michael turns his head to look Gadreel in the eyes and he has to hold his breath. And Gadreel is sure that he doesn’t believe in aliens. But he believes in angels.

“In one thing I certainly agree with him… You are heaven-sent, Michael,” he props up and carefully removes black curl from Michael’s forehead.

Michael stares at him with big eyes and before he can speak Gadreel asks:

“Can I kiss you?”

He expects anything from simple ‘no’ to a broken arm. His answer is barely audible ‘why’.

“Why not?” he whispers back, leaning closer. And it’s all so close, warmth, smell, soft hair and stone-hard flesh. He doesn’t believe he would survive being torn from it.

Michael lets out shaky breath. He doesn’t pull away. He doesn’t push him away. Yet. Michael’s breathe ghosts over his lips and he feels tremor in his own body. He gathers his courage and pushes his hand into Michael’s thick hair.

When Michael encircles his wrist, Gadreel is afraid it’s over, but Michael just leaves it there, warm and calloused. Gadreel notices how Michael’s hands are smaller than his, and still Gadreel can only dream to be as strong as he is.

“You know what,” Michael finally speaks, “If you can make sure that tomorrow I won’t kill Bartholomew, Malachi and Nick along with them and go to jail, you won’t have to ask,” and that a bit unsure smile is all promise Gadreel needs.

“It’ a deal then. You can count on me.” Always. 


End file.
